Rise of the Balcoins
by SonOfHades96
Summary: Season 1 ended with a bang. Four other Balcoin children are headed to Chance harbor. Since there's no guarantee that there will be a season 2, I've decided to take matters into my own hands. These are the stories of the four Balcoin children. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Discovery**

**A/N: This story may or may not continue depending on the feedback I get. Please review and let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

**Andy Rogers**

**Manteca, California**

My name is Andy Rogers. I am sixteen years old and no, I'm not a guy. I'm a girl. Andy's short for Andrea, but since I don't like that name, it's Andy. I have long curly black hair, pale skin, and pale blue eyes. I'm very athletic. I was captain of the varsity girls' basketball team back in Manteca, California, where I spent most of my miserable life living in. I might be exaggerating just a bit. Being from a small town isn't all bad, I mean, it does have its perks. For starters, everyone knows everyone. Gossip gets around quick and if you're anything like me, then you thrive off gossip. The second thing is that, around here at least, people are really friendly. Everyone cares about each other a lot. And the third and final thing is, well, I'm not normal. No, seriously, I have _powers_! I'm a witch, you see; full- blooded, one hundred percent witch. I can do things that other people can't, like, this one time, I was sitting in chemistry class and I made my beaker explode. It shattered right in front of me and all I did was thought of it shattering. Pretty cool, huh? Yeah, I know. What's uncool is that this girl, Rachel Diaz, was staring at me the whole time as if she knew I did it. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time, but when Rachel approached me after school, things got weird.

I was standing in front of my locker, putting some books in my bag. I didn't really have any friends, just Peter, who happened to be absent that day. Rachel came up from behind me and tapped my shoulder. I turned around and there was Rachel, all happy dandy and _all_ smiles. Rachel was known around school as the mad genius because quite frankly, the girl knew just about everything there is to know about everything. She stood there with her books in one hand and her other hand pushing back her wavy brown hair. I had no idea this conversation would be about what had happened earlier in chem class.

"I saw what you did back there," Rachel said. I had no idea what she was talking about. I stuffed the last book in my backpack and slammed my locker shut.

"What are you talking about, Diaz? Make it quick, I have practice in a few minutes." Peter always said that I didn't have more friends because I wasn't nice to people. Truth is, I didn't _need_ any friends. Not when I had all this amazing power. Besides, Rachel wasn't my type of friend anyway. The girl was too happy. Not to mention way too girly. She was wearing a white miniskirt with small yellow daisies on the bottom left corner. She had on a small yellow blouse under a white satin jacket. Now compare that to my black ripped up jeans, black combat boots and ripped up leather jacket. I had on a bright green T-shirt and a necklace with a silver skull on it. Rachel smiled again.

"Come on, Andrea I…"

"It's Andy. I hate that name," I corrected her. She nodded half-heartedly.

"Andy," she continued, "I saw you make that beaker explode." That's when I realized what she was getting at. I couldn't let her know of my powers. I couldn't let her know I was a witch. I laughed.

"Are you stupid? That beaker exploded on its own. I guess I put in too much of the solute. Nobody can make a beaker explode like that." I began to make my way pass her, but she stopped me.

"Andre…um, Andy, I know you did it. I know what you are. I've been suspecting you were a witch all year and that incident confirmed it." I stopped dead in my tracks. Even if she did know I was a witch, I knew I had to keep denying it. My only question was, how did she even know about witches.

"You're not as smart as everyone thinks, are you Rachel? You seriously think I'm a witch?" I started walking again and that's when Rachel did something crazy. She put her hand out and pulled me back. It was like she had used powers of her own. I turned around to look at a smiley Rachel again.

"You see, Andy, I'm a witch too. So are Tyler, Devon, Francis, and Kate. You're not alone. I want to help you," she said. I stood there with my mouth open. I just couldn't believe it. For all these years, smiley mad genius Rachel had been a witch too? And Tyler, Devon, Francis and Kate as well? No, it couldn't be! Tyler was a nobody; a science club loser. Devon was an overgrown football playing beast. Francis was a pothead and Kate was well, Kate. She was just another girl I went to school with. I couldn't believe it. I decided I didn't want to hear anymore.

"I'm gonna be late for basketball practice," I muttered as I speed-walked down the hall. Rachel called after me, but I didn't turn around. Things were going to get a lot weirder here in Manteca California and this was only the beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Experience**

**A/N: Jaden is the second of the four Balcoin children. I'll let you guys in on a little secret; the next two are in the _same_ circle! Enjoy! By the way, reviews make me update faster.**

**Jaden McGregor **

**Portland, Oregon**

I don't know my entire heritage. I know I'm Mexican and Irish from my mom's side, but what about my dad? Guess what? I've never met him. I don't even know what he _looks_ like, I mean, he must look like me. Mom tells me that all the time. _You're the exact image of your father_, she'd always say. But how can I know if she has no pictures of him and won't tell me anything else about him besides that he was a busy man. She always says "was" as if he's not alive and that's what I think. I think my father's dead but I can't be sure. Every time I ask my mom if he's alive, she changes the subject. _Every single time_. I really hate that, I really do. But life hasn't been easy for my mom. She used to have a drinking problem. That was when I was little. She would drink on the sofa until she'd pass out. Grandma would have to take me for days until my mom became sober and even the soberness was short lived as my mom would continue drinking the very next night. Grandma says when my father left it left a huge whole in my mom's heart. According to my grandmother, my mom lived for the guy. She absolutely loved him with all her being. And then he just left her. He left me. He left us. I've spent my whole life wanting to meet my father so I could kick his ass. He deserved it for leaving us behind. He deserved it for making our lives a living hell.

I really appreciate Jack. Ever since Jack came into my mom's life, my mom's been sober, my mom's been active, but best of all, my mom's been happy; an emotion that she hasn't experienced in fifteen years. Jack's a hardworking man who loves my mom and I really like the guy. He's nice and according to him, he's never consumed an ounce of alcohol in his life. It's not that hard to believe. The guy's forty-nine and he's in great shape. He's got wicked muscles that I can only envy. I'm not so bad looking myself, I guess. I have shoulder-length brown hair and dark green eyes. My skin is a light tan color due to my Mexican heritage. I have the exact same skin tone as my grandmother. I'm fifteen, almost sixteen, and I like to skateboard. Skateboarding would be my other talent. My first talent is going to be hard to believe. I have magic. I am a witch or wizard or whatever you want to call it. You see, my mom and grandmother are witches too, but they don't know I know. They think I don't know about my powers. Boy, are they ever wrong. You see, my family isn't the only witch family in Portland. No, there are others. I belong to a circle with six other witches.

A full circle is six. My circle consists of Henry Love, an animal of a guy, who enjoys drinking, smoking, and partying until he passes out, Gaby Russo, a cheerleader who thinks she's too pretty for thinking, Cyanne Golfer, she's a peppy happy girl who's always smiling and being all _happy_. Next comes Ronald Snow. Ronald, I guess, is the most normal guy in the circle. He's very calm and serious. Finally, we have Victoria Tatum, the "mysterious" one. She claims she's a psychic and can see things the rest of us can't. I say it's a whole bunch of crap. None of us are really "friends." We bounded our circle in order to become stronger. At least, we all thought that we would get stronger. It turns out that once a circle is bounded, there is no more individual magic. We became stronger as a group, but weaker as individual witches. I was pretty pissed until I realized that I was the only one in our circle who could do magic on my own. I kept it a secret from the others, but not too long ago I discovered my power.

It was late Friday night, or I guess you can say early Saturday morning since it was about two A.M. I was riding home from Henry's house when I was jumped by these two big guys. They had come from out of nowhere and knocked me off my board. I landed on a pile of trash. The guys were much older than me, maybe in their twenties, and they looked high. One of them had on a tank top that revealed various gang tattoos. The other wore a black denim jacket that was a little too big for him. After they had knocked me off my board, they approached me, cracking their knuckles. Now don't get me wrong, I'm no punk. I stood up and brushed the dust off of my black T-shirt. I then looked at my attackers with a sly smile.

"You fellas looking for a fight?" I asked, raising my fists. The one in the tank top laughed.

"Give us all your money and you can go home, kid," said the one in the denim jacket. I had no money, but I wasn't going to tell them that. I chuckled.

"How about I keep all my money and you guys get to keep your arms. Sounds like a fair deal, doesn't it?" I had been in my fair share of fist fights before and I could hold my own against bigger guys pretty well. The only problem was there were two of them, and since I was alone, I couldn't do magic. I was screwed. The two guys wasted no time in pounding me. They wrestled me to the ground and began to punch me all over and I gotta say, it really hurt. I tried with all my might to wrestle my way up, but they were two strong. I could feel my blood boiling. I was getting pummeled. Suddenly, I got this urge throughout my body. I blood felt hot in my veins. I could feel a wave of power circulating through my entire body. I yelled, "NO!" and with that, the two guys went flying in opposite directions. I sat there for a while, just awestruck at what I had just done. Then, without giving it a second thought, I got up, hopped my skateboard and got the hell out of there. That was the day I discovered my unique ability that, as far as I knew, no one else in the circle possessed. Of course, I had only tried it once and it seemed to only happen when I was on the verge of dying, but it was individual power nonetheless. I told no one, not a single soul about what had happened that night. As soon as I got home, I rushed pass the living room and up the stairs to my room. I sat on my bed and replayed the incident in my head. That was when I realized two things; one was that I absolutely couldn't tell the rest of the circle about this and two was that this was no ordinary magic. No, what I had done was something dark; something evil and I had loved every bit of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three: Last Piece to the Puzzle**

**A/N: This will be the last individual chapter. The following chapters will feature the POVs of all four Balcoin children. Don't forget to review. Enjoy!**

**Alex and Mason Baxter**

**Las Vegas, Nevada**

**Mason's POV**

To survive here in Vegas, most people would say you need luck. Some people would say you need skills. I say fuck it. When you're Mason Baxter, all you need is _magic_. Mmhmm, I just said 'magic.' You see, I'm a witch. I have these insanely amazing powers that would totally blow your mind. My twin brother, Alex and I belong to a whole circle of witches. That's a group of six witches that are bounded together basically for life. We can't do any individual magic, but we can sure kick ass when there's more than one of us. Well, let me not say that. _I_ can do my own magic. Alex and I are special. While the rest of our circle can only do magic when they're around each other, we can do magic separately. It's not no ordinary magic. It's what the rest of the circle calls "dark magic." Ha, they're just jealous 'cause they don't have it. You wanna know what I think? They are mad that they don't have the gift my brother and I have. There ain't nothing "dark" about it.

Me and my brother deserve this gift. We grew up with nothing. Our father had walked out on us before we were even born and our mother had died of heart disease when we were ten. For the past six years, we had been raised by our clueless grandparents who, although are witches themselves, are more boring than a pile of bricks. Well, I shouldn't say that. At least you can play with bricks. My grandparents go out of their way just to act like normal people and I hate that. They don't know that Alex and I are practicing magic. For all they know, we spend our time making trouble. Of course, they're not entirely wrong. Alex and I do manage to cause a little trouble here and there with our individual powers. But hey, who can really blame us? There's nothing fun to do in Vegas except sneak into casinos. When Alex and I aren't using our magic to cheat on the slots, you can usually find us goofing off in the streets.

We never really talked about our parents, I mean, what is there to talk about? Mom's dead and we've never had a dad. I really don't give two fucks, to tell you the truth. Alex on the other hand, is more sensitive on the subject. He wants to find our dad. Crazy, right? I mean, for all we know he could be long dead. But Alex is convinced he's alive. Even if our dad was alive, how would we find him? We don't even know his last name; we have our mother's. All we've got to go on is his first name; John. Easy enough, right? I mean, there are only about a billion Johns in the world, so finding our John should be a snap. I can't talk no sense into him, so I just let him get on with it.

In the past few months, we've researched just about every John in Las Vegas alone and there are a total of 54,217 people named John in Vegas alone. Oscar, a fellow witch member of our circle, is a pro-hacker. He managed to hack into the city's database and that was how we started our search. What we did was we took our pictures and the picture of the John, and we'd scan them. The computer would compare the physical features and give us a percentage of the resemblance. We found a few Johns that were above 40% but never over 49%. That meant that our father wasn't in Vegas. With all that research, you'd probably think Alex would give up, but no, this just made him wanna find him even more. I was getting pretty hot with him because he wouldn't give it a rest.

"Why do you wanna find that guy so badly!" I said one night after we had researched about a thousand Johns. Alex, who had been sitting down, stood up abruptly.

"Mason, he's our dad. Don't you want to meet him?" The look on his face was that of pure determination.

"No way, man. Don't you see? He left before we we're even born! He obviously did not want to meet _us_!" This seemed to hurt Alex a little, but he regained himself.

"We don't know that," he began. "We don't know why he left. Mom never told us." I couldn't explain it any clearer. Alex had always been soft and naïve. He always needed somebody to guide him through things and that somebody was always me. When mom died, he had cried nonstop for days; I didn't even shed a single tear. It's not that I wasn't sad, because I was. It was just that I knew I had to be strong for the both us, for me and Alex. Mind you, we were both ten and we had been forced to grow up.

I gave up. I still believe it was nonsense trying to find our father, but Alex had his mind set and I wasn't going to be the one to disappoint him. Alex had always had a talent for getting things his way. Oh that Alex.

**Alex's POV**

My brother Mason refuses to believe that we can find our dad. I think I'm really close to actually finding our father. So check this out, I've already searched every John in Las Vegas to no avail. But, I did manage to find some Johns that had at least 49% resemblance. So what I did was I looked into those Johns and saw if any of them had any relatives that were also named John. There were forty of them. I looked into some of them but instead of increasing, the resemblance decreased. So, I retorted to my plan B; ask my grandparents.

Although my grandparents are two sticks in the mud, they were alive to see my father and my mom when they were dating. I mean, we could've asked a long time ago, but we never did. Mason says they wouldn't tell me much. He said that they'd tell me the same thing mom did; "His name was John and he was a very handsome man."

Mason was so against me doing it, that he didn't come with me to ask them. He had always frowned upon me looking for dad because he thinks that dad walked out on us because he didn't want us, but we don't know that for sure. I mean, who knows? The man could've had his reasons, right? Mason's just two full of himself. He thinks he doesn't need a father because he's so big and tough and can use magic. Well, unlike my twin brother, I don't think magic can solve all the world's problems. I mean, sure me and Mason do a whole bunch of goofy things with our powers, but Mason's usually the brain behind those operations. Besides, if I could help it, I wouldn't use the individual powers that Mason and I somehow have. When I use it, all I feel is evilness inside me. I can't explain it. Maybe it is what the other's say, maybe it is dark magic. Of course hardheaded Mason refuses to believe that anything bad could happen if we overuse it.

Anyway, I walked into our smelly apartment and put my bag on the sofa. Mookie, one of my grandmother's three fat cats was staring at me from the sofa opposite the one I had thrown my bag on. It was Thursday afternoon. I could hear my grandfather listening to the game on the radio. I didn't really understand him. I mean, I'm not really big on sports, but why would you root for a minor league baseball team? The Las Vegas 51s. That was his team. I arrived in the kitchen just in time to hear him curse.

"Hey there, grandpa," I said, leaning on the kitchen counter. My grandpa, a fat little man with a balding head was sitting in a small chair with a small radio in his lap. He was wearing a red flannel shirt and khaki shorts. He acknowledged me by grunting. That's how he greeted everyone, pretty much. I didn't know how to ask, so I just came right out and said it. "Grandpa, tell me about my father." I realized too late that I had asked the wrong thing. Without warning, my grandpa slammed both fists on the radio, crushing it.

"DON'T YOU EVER MENTION YOUR FATHER IN THIS HOUSEHOLD, YOU HEAR ME?" I was shocked. I had never seen him this angry. I was taken aback by his sudden anger.

"Sorry I asked. I didn't—," he interrupted mid-sentence.

"He's the reason your mother, my precious Catherine, is dead. That Blackwell brought nothing but pure misery to this family!" Blackwell? That had to be dad's last name. I guessed I had blocked out everything else grandpa had said prior and after that. I had finally gotten the last piece of the puzzle; my father's name…was John Blackwell. I immediately ran out of the apartment. I had to go find Oscar. Now I could really find my father. Mason had been wrong.


End file.
